
Book . 1? g 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE 

Photoplay 
Writer 

By 
LEONA RADNOR 



How to write Scenarios that 
sell and where to sell them 



Price 
Fifty Cents 



THE 

Photoplay 
Writer 



By 

Leona Radnor 



WRITER FOR THE MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE AND 

SCENARIO EDITOR OF THE EMBEE MOTION 

PICTURE MFG. CO. 



PUBLISHED BY 

LEONA RADNOR 

118 East 28th Street 
New York 












COPYRIGHT 1912 BY 

LEONA RADNOR 



©GU314634 



Photoplays 

The demand for photoplays is greater to-day than 
ever before and, according to authoritative accounts, 
this demand will go on steadily increasing. New com- 
panies are starting up; new theatres are being opened; 
and everyone who has made a study of this wonderful 
and fascinating motion picture industry is of the opinion 
that it is merely in its infancy. 

Another field being opened up to the scenario writer 
promises to bring big returns. Advertising by means 
of motion pictures is rapidly assuming proportions as 
an industry. Manufacturers are realizing that the 
motion picture is the ideal medium for exhibiting their 
products in the course of manufacture and in actual 
use in the finished state. 

When the exhibition of such pictures has been satis- 
factorily arranged for, there will be a demand for 
scenarios dealing with commercial and industrial sub- 
jects. 

Before getting right down to information and in- 
struction and advice, I am going to say a few words 
of encouragement. I realize that among those who will 
read this little book are many who have ideas, but 
have lacked either the courage or the technical knowl- 
edge or the power of expression to mold these ideas 
into stories or dramas. To those timid or unversed 
ones, let me say emphatically that photoplay writing 
offers great opportunities to them, provided, always, 
that their ideas are of such quality and quantity as to 
form sterling photoplays. Here there are no require- 
ments of style and sparkling dialogue to fill; you are 
not restricted to three or four acts into which all the 
action must converge, as in the stage play ; nor are you 



called upon to display literary ability in the powerful 
and graceful handling of narrative and imagery, as in 
a story. 

All such difficulties are cleared away from the path 
of the photoplay writer. When an idea occurs to him, 
he has simply to jot it down and add to it as his im- 
agination pictures the developing plot (subject to a 
few simple rules) until he has a sequence of incidents 
that form an interesting story. 

For that is all a photoplay is — just a story told in 
pictures. And everyone has a story — if not a bag of 
stories — tucked away in the corners of his mind. One 
doesn't have to live where life is teeming and surging 
in order to write a successful scenario. Some of the 
most applauded photoplays are those simple little 
tales of country or home life in which the main theme 
is a strong heart interest. This theme may be the love 
of sweethearts, of brothers and sisters, of parents and 
children, and the story may be of the simplest; but it 
must consist of incidents that reach and hold the spec- 
tator and stamp upon his appreciative faculties an 
impression that is not obliterated as soon as the reel 
is finished. 

For instance, one of the prettiest and most appreci- 
ated photoplays I have seen in a long time is one by 
the Edison Company now being shown, called "Home. 
A Thanksgiving Story." It is the old story of a 
patient and loving mother looking for her absent boy's 
return. On Thanksgiving Eve she is preparing the 
morrow's dinner. She goes out to the post-box at the 
gate. The postman has just left the mail, but there 
is no letter from the boy. Sadly she stands gazing 
down the road. Her husband comes from the field, puts 
his arm about her in sympathy and leads her back to 
the house. That evening, the mother writes an adver- 
tisement and sends it to a city paper. This is the ad- 
vertisement: "My Child, come home. Then it will 
truly be Thanksgiving Day. Mother." 



Then follows a number of scenes showing the effect 
of this appeal on dwellers in the city. The first one 
to be affected is the editor of the paper to which the 
advertisement was sent. Upon reading it, he has a 
vision of his old home in the country, and the longing 
comes upon him to visit it. He puts on his coat and 
hat, and, to the astonishment of the office force, he 
rushes out. A "man about town," an actress, a club- 
man — each in turn reads the advertisement and prepares 
to take a train back to the country home. The club- 
man, in his haste, throws the newspaper out of the win- 
dow. It falls at the feet of a boy — a boy who is down 
at heel and out at elbow, wandering the streets looking 
for a job. And this is the boy for whom the advertise- 
ment was intended. He picks up the paper, reads the 
few appealing words, looks helplessly at his shabby 
clothes, feels despairingly in his empty pockets. He 
has no money — but he must go home. He goes to the 
station and slips into a box car. He reaches home and 
quietly enters the house without being seen or heard. 
The lonely father and mother are standing at the table 
saying grace over the Thanksgiving dinner. There is a 
third place for the absent boy, and the wanderer ap- 
proaches and stands with bowed head. When grace is 
finished, the father and mother look up to find their 
prayers answered — their boy is home again and their 
Thanksgiving Day is made joyful. 

You can see how simple, how everyday a story of the 
above is, yet each time that I have seen it, the spec- 
tators applauded heartily. It is the human interest, the 
heart throb in it, that causes it to register. 

Now, in everyone's life, there is at least one good 
story. In every little village, there is a score of rom- 
ances and comedies. If one of them is not sufficient to 
fill out a photoplay of the desired length (from fifteen 
to twenty minutes), take incidents from several and 
weave them together. If the incidents are humorous, 
so much the better. Every producer is anxious to get 



Aold of humorous plays. There is a great scarcity of 
them. The sort of humor wanted is not the rough 
variety — not an attempt to make people laugh at 
cruel jokes nor at accidents that mean injury to some- 
one nor at mere foolishness. The incidents must be of 
humorous situations that are innocently funny. 

Another encouraging point in connection with photo- 
play writing is that practically everything is possible 
in photography. Scenes that could not be presented 
on a dramatic stage are worked out by the moving 
picture actors and the camera men. People can fall 
down cliffs ; they can be apparently blown up in an 
explosion; they can be shown struggling for breath in 
a fire-swept mine — so, if you have a tale of extraordin- 
ary happenings to relate, don't hesitate for fear that 
it cannot be reproduced. 

But also bear in mind that there are limitations. Be 
sure to have your incidents within the bounds of possi- 
bility; do not concoct a play that would tax the credu- 
lity of spectators. 



THE PRODUCTION OF PHOTOPLAYS 

For the enlightenment of those who are in the dark, 
I will give a brief account of the production of photo- 
plays. 

When a scenario is accepted by the scenaric editor of 
a producing company, he turns it over (perhaps with 
some changes and suggestions) to the stage director. 
This director studies the scenario, alters it to suit his 
purpose, makes a choice of actors from the stock com- 
pany maintained by the producer, plans his scenes, and 
rehearses the actors thoroughly (either in the studio 
or out of doors) before the camera man is called in. 
Then, as the scenes are gone through, the camera op- 
erator turns the crank that reels off the film on which 
the photographs are being taken. 



The film is a celluloid ribbon, the standard size being 
one inch and three-eighths wide. Sixteen pictures a second 
are taken, each picture being an inch wide and ehree- 
fourths of an inch deep. The magazine of the camera 
(a circular metal box) holds from 150 to 300 feet of 
film. When that length is used, another reel is put in 
and the picture-taking goes on. These lengths are 
glued together, after the developing and printing pro- 
cesses, thus making one continuous film. 

The film in the camera is the negative and, like kodak 
films and the plates used in still photography, has to be 
developed. From it many positives (also films) are 
printed. These are tested in the factory by being 
thrown on a screen. The photography and the acting 
are criticized. Often the actors are present at these 
tests, and their faults are pointed out to them by one 
of the managers or directors. Scenes that are poorly 
done are cut out of the film and, if necessary, they are 
re-enacted. Defects in photography are remedied, and, 
when the company is satisfied with the film, it is re- 
leased to exchanges and these in turn supply the 
theatres. 

The developing and printing of those long ribbons of 
films are very wonderful processes. They are wound 
on frames and dipped into the developing baths, and, 
when dry, are run through machines to be printed by 
electric light. 

When a photoplay is shown in a theatre, the film 
passes from an upper to a lower magazine on the pro- 
jecting machine. The pictures are magnified by a pow- 
erful lens through which a very strong light is thrown 
from the "lamp house," or lantern, on the machine. 



YOUR SCENARIO 

"Scenario" is a term that has been brought into the 
photoplay vocabulary from the dramatic stage. There 



it is applied to the bare plot of a play — its action as 
distinct from the dialogue. When the writing of photo- 
plays developed into a profession, the term "scenario" 
was adopted as the most fitting for the form in which 
plays are offered to film producers. It means an out- 
line of the plot, situation by situation, arranged in 
scenes as ^ne action changes its base of operations. 

In the course of a talk with Mr. Horace G. Plimpton, 
Manager of the Negative Production of the Edison Com- 
pany, he said: "There is no secret, no mystery about 
the writing of scenarios. All that is required is the 
ability to think up good, effective plots, and the skill 
to present them in scenes of telling action. And the 
best way to develop ability and acquire skill is by going 
to moving picture theatres and studying the films." 

From the start, you must get firmly fixed in your 
mind the demand that something must be doing all the 
time. There must be something interesting, something 
pointing to the development of the story every second 
of the time. You cannot have, as in a story or a spoken 
play, a couple of men sitting and calmly talking to 
each other, without anything to explain the meaning 
of their conversation. Remember, the photoplay is 
dumb — its meaning has to be expressed by action. 

You will probably be puzzled at first as to the gaug- 
ing of the length of your play. You should plan to 
have it last about fifteen minutes. When you have 
your plot sketched out, it would be a good idea for 
you to take your script and deliberately go through 
the action. Do not hurry, for every scene is worked 
over by the director of the company producing the 
play, and he fills in the chinks with realistic and artistic 
details that tend to lengthen the duration. 

So, as I say, do not hurry when testing the time re- 
quired to go through your play. If it covers about 
fifteen minutes, you can feel easy on the score of its 
length. Many novices send in scenarios that could be 
reeled off in less than ten minutes, while others send 

10 



them in so crammed with incidents that they would re- 
quire over a thousand feet of film (the usual length) 
if played as written. 

Now, to get to work on your scenario. The first 
step is, naturally, the idea for your plot. You may- 
have a single plot of consecutive events, or you may 
have a primary and a secondary theme interlacing. 

Be absolutely original, if you possibly can. If you 
take an idea from a newspaper or magazine story, work 
it out with original incidents. You will notice that 
magazine stories are usually copyrighted. A disregard 
of that fact is apt to bring punishment through the 
heavy hand of the law. 

Nearly every company has a scenario editor, and he, 
as well as the directors of plays, is constantly on the 
lookout for plots in newspapers, magazines, and books. 
So, unless you inject originality into your play, you 
are liable to send in a duplicate of one already written 
and produced, with the result that you will have wasted 
your time and postage. 

Some writers have been unscrupulous and foolish 
enough to write scenarios of photoplays that they have 
seen on the screen, and have sent them to other compan- 
ies. To say nothing of the dishonesty of it, it is an ab- 
surd thing to do; for scenario editors occupy their re- 
sponsible positions because they know their business. 
And that business requires that they be conversant with 
the productions of other companies and that they detect 
at a glance if the plot of a submitted scenario is stolen. 
They are also abreast of magazine reading, so it is futile 
for a scenario writer to attempt to "get by" with a 
plagiarized story. 

Now that I have impressed upon you not only the 
advisability but the necessity for originating your plots, 
we can proceed with the writing of the scenario. 

Some film companies advertise that they want only 
ideas, but I would advise always sending in a scenario, 
M very little is paid for mere ideas. And given a good 



plot, the more workmanlike, the more professional a 
scenario, the more money will it command. 

To demonstrate the scenario form, I shall take the 
familiar story of "Cinderella." 

The first step is to write a short synopsis — that is, 
outline of the story. This synopsis must be as brief as 
it is possible to make it and still give the reader a 
clear idea of your play. Confine yourself to 200 
words — 250 words at the most. Make it interesting, so 
that the reader will wish to go on with your scenario. 
Write it on a sheet by itself and let it be the first page 
of your script, so that it will meet the reader's eye im- 
mediately. 

CINDERELLA 

Synopsis 
Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters, being ugly of 
disposition as well as of feature, are jealous of her. 
They ill-treat her and make a drudge of her. While 
they are at a ball, Cinderella's fairy godmother pays the 
lonely girl a visit. Learning how she is treated, the 
fairy transforms Cinderella's rags into beautiful clothes ; 
turns a pumpkin into a carriage, and rats and mice into 
coachman, grooms, and poines. She then sends the 
radiant Cinderella to the ball. There, she meets and 
charms the prince. She will not tell who she is. Run- 
ning from the ballroom at midnight, she loses her little 
glass slipper. The prince picks it up and, next day, 
goes in search of the wearer. He tries the slipper on the 
feet of many girls. Cinderella's stepsisters cannot 
squeeze their toes into it, but Cinderella slips it on 
easily. The fairy godmother again appears and trans- 
forms Cinderella into a beautiful princess, and the prince 
leads her away to become his bride. 



Now, from the synopsis we work out the scenario. 
Each time the action changes from one place to another, 

12 



it means a new scene. A scene is the action taken by 
the camera in one spot without stopping. 

Besides numbering each scene, you must indicate the 
setting — that is, whether it is in a room, in the woods, 
on board a ship, etc. At the heading of your scenario, 
write out a cast of the characters of your play. 

CINDERELLA 

Cast of Characters 
Cinderella The Prince 

Her Stepmother The Fairy Godmother 

Her two Stepsisters Guests at the ball, heralds, etc 

For the first scene, you have the picture of Cinder- 
ella's home life. She is unhappy, being nagged and 
forced to do drudgery for her stepmother and stepsis- 
ters, while they think only of their own pleasures. 
Finally, they go upstairs to dress, while Cinderella 
crouches on the hearth sifting the ashes for the seeds 
the malicious stepmother has thrown down just to make 
her work. 

Now, that is all that can be shown in the first scene, 
for that is all that takes places at that time in that set. 
So the first scene will be as follows : 

SCENE I 

An old-fashioned kitchen with large fireplace 
Cinderella, in rags, polishing a copper kettle. Her 
stepmother and stepsisters enter and begin scolding her 
and ordering her from one task to another. These 
finished, the stepmother maliciously throws a handful of 
pumpkin seeds into the ashes on the hearth and com- 
mands Cinderella to pick them out. Stepmother and 
daughters laugh at her dismay and weariness and leave 
the room. 

Note — You cannot end your first scene with "Step- 
mother and daughters go upstairs to their rooms and 

13 



dress for the hall." As the camera from its present 

position cannot take the mother and her daughters in 

their room upstairs, we make another scene of that 
view. 

SCENE II 
Daughters' Room 
The two girls are dressing for the ball. They powder 
and roil ere their faces and simper at their images in the 
mirror. Mother enters, handsomely attired. They ad- 
mire her, arrange her hair, pin on a flower, etc. She 
does same to them, then they all take court patches 
from a little box and stick several on their faces. Quite 
satisfied with themselves, they leave the room. 

SCENE III 

Same as Scene I 
Cinderella kneeling on hearth. Stepmother and 
daughters enter and flaunt their finery before the little 
drudge. They give her final instructions, order her to 
open the door for them, and sweep out laughing among 
themselves. Cinderella goes to the window and wist- 
fully watches them depart. 

Note — You cannot say "They sweep out, get into a 
coach and are driven to the palace, where they enter 
the ballroom and are greeted by the prince." As the 
camera is focus sed on the room, the mother and daught- 
ers are out of the scene as soon as they pass through 
the door. To show them driving to the ball would entail 
another scene, and their arrival at the palace yet an- 
other. As there is no interest attached to these incidents, 
we omit them. 

SCENE IV 
Ballroom in the Palace 
Guests dancing the minuet. The prince is strolling 
about. Stepmother and daughters arrive. The prince 

14 



greets them stiffly and passes on. Women smile at 
him and attempt to interest him, but he pays no heed 
to them. 

SCENE V 
Same as Scene I 
Cinderella on the hearth sadly gazing at the fire. 
Suddenly her fairy godmother appears. She asks Cin- 
derella what is the matter and why she is in rags. The 
girl tells her how she is made to drudge. The god- 
mother treads a measure of the minuet and, by gestures, 
asks the girl if she would like to go to the ball. Cinder- 
ella answers "Yes" enthusiastically. Fairy waves a 
wand and Cinderella is beautifully dressed. She dances 
about in delight. Fairy motions to door for Cinderella 
to pass out. Then stops and points to figure twelve on 
large clock and indicates that Cinderella must return 
by midnight. 

SCENE VI 

Same as Scene IV 
The friends of the prince urge him to dance. They 
bring up beautiful women to present to him. He turns 
them over to other partners and walks wearily away. 

Nothing interests him. 

SCENE VII 

Garden in front of Cinderella's home 
Cinderella and fairy godmother enter from house. 
Fairy carries a trap containing rats and mice. Fairy 
waves wand over a large pumpkin and it is transformed 
into a dainty carriage; she waves wand over the rats 
and mice, and they become coachman, grooms, and 
ponies. Cinderella gets into carriage and is driven off. 

scene vni 

Same as Scene IV 
Guests dancing. Cinderella enters. She creates a 

15 



sensation. The prince is immediately charmed with 
her. He approaches and leads her into the dance. Her 
stepsisters, not recognizing her, make deep curtseys as 
she passes them with the prince. 

SCENE IX 

Late in the Evening 
An alcove off the main hall of the palace. Clock on 
mantel or standing in corner 
Cinderella enters as if trying to make her escape. 
She looks at clock and starts toward the hall. A num- 
ber of young men rush in pursuit of her and surround 
her begging for a dance. She refuses them all, glancing 
at the clock. The prince enters and claims a dance. 
She is about to place her hand in his, when she starts 
and listens, her hand involuntarily keeping time to the 
strokes of the clock. (Flash clock dial with hands 
pointing at twelve.) With sudden resolution, she flings 
off the prince's hand and runs out through the arch- 
way. One of her slippers drops from her foot. The 
prince stops to pick it up, then runs after her. He 
stops at the archway, looking in all directions. He 
indicates that she has disappeared. 

SCENE X 

Same as Scene I 
Cinderella enters hurriedly, out of breath. All of her 
finery has vanished, with the exception of her little glass 
slipper, which she carries in her hand. She looks at it, 
then thusts it quickly into the pocket of her ragged 
skirt. She sinks down upon the hearth. Her stepmother 
and stepsisters enter in great excitement, talking and 
gesticulating. They scowl at Cinderella and order her 
to help them undress. 

SCENE XI 
Next day. A street 
People leaning from windows. The prince and heralds 

16 



in street. The prince holds aloft the glass slipper. The 
heralds proclaim: "The prince will wed the maid who 
can wear the slipper." Girls press forward eagerly. 

SCENE XII 

A living-room 
Stepmother and her daughters peering from window 
and talking. They look at their feet and nod approv- 
ingly. The sisters will try on the slipper. They begin 
to prink. 

SCENE XIII 

Same as Scene XI 
The prince comes from a house. He shakes his head 
and proceeds next door. Crowd is curious and tries 
to look in window. Prince comes out shaking his head 
in discouragement. 

SCENE XIV 

Same as Scene XII 

Stepmother and daughters still looking from window. 
Suddenly turn and assume dignified attitudes. They 
call Cinderella and order her to open the door. She 
does so and conceals herself behind the door. Prince 
and page enter. Prince indicates that he wishes to try 
on the slipper. The sisters try to force it on, but they 
cannot squeeze their toes into it. The prince is about 
to leave when he catches sight of Cinderella. He calls 
her to him and tries the slipper on. It slips on easily 
and she draws the mate from her pocket. Enraptured, 
the prince kisses her hand. The fairy godmother ap- 
pears and, with a wave of the magic wand, transforms 
Cinderella into a beautiful princess. The prince leads 
her away, while her stepmother and stepsisters look on 
with astonishment and envy. 

There you have a model of the scenario form. This 
contains fewer scenes than the majority of scenarios. 
From eighteen to twenty-five scenes usually go to make 

17 



up a photoplay, and as many as thirty-five have been 
used. While it is not advisable to keep your characters 
in one scene for any length of time (spectators grow 
restless if one scene is kept in sight too long), it is 
also advisable not to have your play cut up by a lot of 
short scenes. But these points all hinge upon the na- 
ture of your play. In an out-of-doors play, it may be 
necessary to move from place to place rapidly. In a 
domestic play, you may be obliged to use the same 
setting repeatedly. You must use your judgment in 
the matter. When the greater part of the action passes 
in a certain setting, change frequently to another 
setting, they come back to the former. In this way, 
you will obviate monotony. 

Plan your action so that the play advances logically 
and the scenes follow each other in natural sequence. 
When characters are to appear later in a different 
setting, you must first take them off the preceding 
scene; or, do not have them appear immediately, but, 
instead, introduce another scene in which they do not 
appear. 

With the "Cinderella" scenario as a guide, you should 
be able to outline any plot. Some writers reverse the 
working plan I suggested — they first write the play and 
then the synopsis. 

An invariable rule that will help you with editors is 
this : Be as brief as possible ; don't fill your scenarios 
with trivial explanations. 

In Scene IX, in parentheses is the sentence: "Flash 
clock with hands pointing at twelve." The terms 
"flash," "close view," "cut in," and "screen" are used 
as directions for the presentation of something outside 
the action of the scene then progressing or something 
within the scene to be enlarged. You have noticed in 
some motion pictures that the action will be interrupted 
to show a hand, enlarged, writing a letter or opening a 
locket, or, as in this scenario, there will be a clock or 
watch dial showing the time; a letter or telegram will 

18 



be "screened"; there will be a "cut in" of another scene 
shown for a few seconds only, to accentuate a compari- 
son or show what is taking place somewhere else at the 
same moment. 

You have also noticed that on motion picture films 
sub-titles, or "leaders," are flashed on the screen to 
explain the coming scenes. When you write your 
scenario, it is not necessary for you to put in these 
sub-titles. The scenario editor or the director supplies 
them as a rule; but if you think you have a set of 
"leaders" that are to the point, write each directly 
under the number of the scene it elucidates. 

Experienced writers usually furnish their own "lead- 
ers" and indicate in parentheses the number of words 
used, so that the director can see at a glance how many 
feet of film will be required. For example : 

Scene I 
The Little Drudge. (3 words) 
An old-fashioned kitchen with large fireplace 
Cinderella, in rags, polishing, etc. 
Scene VIII 
The Belle of the Ball. (5 words) 
Same as Scene IV 
Guests dancing. Cinderella enters, etc. 

Once in a while, it is permissible to use a sentence of 
dialogue to emphasize the action. This usually comes 
at the end of a scene and is often used as the sub-title. 
For instance, you have a domestic episode — the hus- 
band, leaving the house, embraces his wife affection- 
ately. He takes out his watch, points to the figure 
two on the dial. "Meet me at two o'clock." Or, a 
'son has disgraced his family. The father denounces 
his conduct and, in a rage, points to the door. "Go ! 
and never return !" 

In the foregoing "Cinderella" scenario, in Scene 
XI, I used the sentence: "The prince will wed the 

19 



maid who can wear the slipper." That bit of dialogue 
explains the proclamation of the heralds, and can be 
used as a sub-title. But let me caution you against 
indulging in frequent dialogue — at most, it must be 
only a short, enlightening sentence. And use telegrams 
and letters only when absolutely necessary to the 
working out of your plot. "Leaders" cannot be more 
than twenty words in length, and the shorter they 
are the better. Letters and telegrams must be as 
condensed as possible. A letter should not contain more 
than thirty to forty words. 

Always indicate an appreciable lapse of time between 
scenes. If you have a scene between a young girl and a 
boy, you must not, without warning, have them walk 
on in the next scene years older. Designate the lapse 
of time after the number of the scene, thus, 

SCENE V 

Ten years later 

"Ten years later" would be used as a "leader" on the 
screen before Scene V is shown, thereby preparing the 
spectators and making the situation clear. 

If you choose a historical subject, give the period 
under the cast of characters. 

In your cast of characters, it is a good idea to 
signify the occupation of each or his relation to the 
others; for instance, taking an imaginary cast: 

Richard Price a mine owner 

Jenny his daughter 

John Wheeler a mining engineer 

Philip Dean supt. of the mine 

Mrs. Ross friend of John Wheeler 

Jim a miner 

Think up a good title for your play. A short one 
is always preferable to a long one. The choice of a 

20 



title may seem a very simple matter, but I assure you 
that it is of considerable importance. A commonplace 
or much-used title will often discourage a tired editor 
before he begins a reading of the play. Such obvious 
and ancient headings as, "A Mother's Love," "The 
Power of Gold," "Married in Haste," and others that 
were old in story before moving pictures were born, 
will not prejudice the editor in your favor when he 
opens your envelope. Show originality in the christen- 
ing of your play as well as in its plot. Let the name 
be expressive of the play, let it be crisp and a stimu- 
lant to the editor's curiosity. 



YOUR STORY 

Your story must be of such strength and interest as 
to hold the attention of spectators from start to finish. 
Begin with a situation that rouses interest, then de- 
velop the theme logically, putting in only such minor 
scenes as are indispensable, and work for a climax at 
the end. The last scene should be the final clearing 
up of the preceding events — it should show the solution 
of the problem or puzzle, if there is one — and should, 
when possible, contain a surprise or "snapper." 

Remember that the central plot of a play must de- 
pict some episode in the lives of two or three leading 
characters. Do not introduce others with side com- 
plications and separate interests. It does not require 
a big cast nor a pretentious stage-setting to make a 
big impression. A good play, strong in its appeal, 
rarely demands more than three or four leading char- 
acters. The other characters are subordinate and should 
be kept in the backgound. Any secondary business 
must serve merely as a "feeder" to the main story. 

Aim to have your story human ; your characters nat- 
ural, true to life. Identify your principal characters 
in the first scene or in those closely following. Have 
each one do something characteristic of his position in 



life or of his disposition — in a word, of his significance 
in jour play. If he is a villain, have him do some- 
thing to establish the fact immediately, so that the 
spectators, instead of being puzzled and irritated, will 
understand at the outset and follow the picture ab- 
sorbedly and without effort. 

Never lose sight of the fact that the photoplay is 
dumb. There can be no subtleties in it ; the characters 
and their acts must be obvious. Plots that are inter- 
esting and gripping in short stories and novels are 
often unsuitable for photoplay production, for the rea- 
son that on the screen there can be no explanation of 
motives, code of morals, mental and spiritual processes. 
Nothing but action can be shown and such underlying 
incentives and mental and spiritual workings as can 
be read'ly interpreted by gestures and facial expression. 
Fear, worry, anger, horror, remorse — all these can be 
expressed by attitude and facial expression. But im- 
pulsive acts that cannot be easily understood and other 
acts that are the result of certain trains of reasoning 
that it would be impossible to explain in a picture must 
be avoided. 

It is probably superfluous to state that, in order to 
write successfully, you must visualize your play — you 
must in imagination see your characters perform their 
parts. This faculty of imagination must be cultivated, 
if you do not possess it naturally. Otherwise, your ef- 
forts will lack concentration, sharpness, and strength — 
and, consequently, value. 

Write about things with which you are familiar. Do 
not write about people and localities of which you know 
nothing. If you are not acquainted with the customs 
of certain distinct types, such as the mountaineers of 
Kentucky, do not attempt to dramatize them. Know 
the conditions you wish to deal with before you commit 
yourself to paper or your play to the critical scrutiny 
of an editor. 

Visit motion picture theatres and familiarize yourself 

^22 



with the essentials of the photoplay. Pay attention 
not only to the manner in which the interest is kept up 
and brought to a climax, but note also the technical 
side of it. A study of the sequence of scenes, the 
"leaders," the "cut ins," the exits of the characters in 
one scene and their entrances in the following scene, will 
help you more than you would at first deem possible. 
In fact, it is this study that will give you "technique," 
which means an expert and artistic handling of your 
story. 

When you do not like a picture you are viewing, 
ask yourself why, criticize it and try mentally to re- 
construct it so that it would be more interesting to 
your way of thinking. When you like a play, think 
over the plot, the manner of its presentation, scene by 
scene, and store it away as a reference for [future 
assistance — not to copy, but to recall as a guide when 
you are facing puzzling problems in the planning of 
your characters and scenes. 



WHAT FILM PRODUCERS WANT 

All the companies demand original ideas. 

Stories of everyday life stand the best chance of 
acceptance. 

You have doubtless seen on the screen many photo- 
plays adapted from well-known dramas and novels. A 
company that produces such plays prefers that its own 
editorial staff prepare the scenarios. 

As I said in the beginning, there is an unwavering 
demand for comedy. What is wanted is novelty of 
plot or a fresh, original treatment of an old theme. 
Comedy of action must be there as well as the comedy 
of idea. An ordinary, prosy series of events leading up 
to a comical climax does not constitute a comedy; hu- 
morous situations must follow each other as the play 
develops. And the development must be logical and 
natural : forcing ridiculous situations for the sake of a 

23 



"scream" results in foolishness that is far from what 
is desired. There is a lot of good comedy going on 
about us. For one who knows how to grasp it and 
present it there is an avaricious and insatiable market. 

When you go to a moving picture show, pay close 
attention to the producers' names and note what class 
of pictures they specialize in. Some of them prefer 
cowboy plays, others like plays dealing with business, 
others lean toward educational and social reform sub- 
jects. By observing the preferences of the various pro- 
ducers, you may save yourself many pangs of disap- 
pointment and many postage stamps. 

Producers do not care for scenarios requiring trick 
photography. When in the mood to produce such a 
film, it is originated and worked out by the company's 
staff. 

Also take into consideration that a producer encour- 
ages economy in the filming of the majority of his 
plays. A scenario that demands expensive costuming 
and stage-settings or such accessories as special trains, 
palatial yachts, or aeroplanes will not receive as cordial 
a welcome as one that makes more modest demands. 



TO SAVE YOUR ENERGY, TIME, AND 
POSTAGE 

Do not send scenarios dealing with foreign subjects 
to American companies. 

Do not send cowboy and western plays to New York 
companies, unless you know that they have western 
companies doing field work. 

Do not send plays with a Chicago setting to New 
York companies, and vice versa. 

Do not send plays with children dominating the 
scenes to companies that use children but seldom and 
in only minor parts. Learn through the films at the 
theatres which companies favor children. 

24 



Do not send scenarios requiring work of trained 
animals. The Selig Polyscope Co. is the only one I 
know of at present that maintains a menagerie. Watch 
for their films and learn the sort of play they produce. 

Do not write plays containing acts of violence or 
crimes. All photoplays have to be passed upon by the 
National Board of Censors, and the censorship is very 
strict. If a crime is committed, as an incident in the 
play, the method of its commission may not be shown 
in the picture, but the perpetrators must be caught 
and punished. If the play deals with a minor offense, 
the culprit or culprits must be shown repentant. Kid- 
napping must not be shown. Also, there must be 
nothing in a photoplay to offend good taste or morals, 
nothing to offend the various religious creeds and na- 
tionalities. There is no reason for such plays anyway — 
there are so many phases of life strong in human in- 
terest from which we can draw our plots. 

Do not submit scenarios that are founded on copy- 
right plays or stories. The penalty for the infringe- 
ment of a copyright is severe. If you draw your in- 
spiration from a play or a story that is not copy- 
righted, state the source under the title of your 
scenario. 



PREPARATION OF YOUR SCRIPT 

If it is possible, always have your scenario type- 
written. If you cannot type it yourself and know of 
no one who can do it for you, write it legibly in ink. 
This advice is very important, for the editorial de- 
partments of producing companies receive so many 
scripts that they have no time to puzzle over any- 
thing. Typewritten copy is always given preference 
over handwritten; and some of the editors refuse to 
read any but typewritten script. Among them are the 
editors of the Vitagraph, the Kalem Company, and the 
Edison Company. 

25 



Use either foolscap sheets or business letter size — 
that is, 8% by 11 inches. 

Write on one side of the paper only. Always keep 
a carbon copy of your script ; in the event of its being 
lost in transit, you will not then have all your work to 
do over again. But do not send the copy to a company 
while the original is still under consideration with an- 
other. Wait until your scenario is rejected before you 
submit it elsewhere. 

Do not roll your script. Fold it in as few folds as 
possible and enclose in a legal size envelope with a 
stamped and addressed envelope for return. It is best 
to have the enclosed envelope a shade smaller than the 
outside one in order to obviate folding it ; yet it should 
contain the script without making additional creases 
in the latter. 

Write your name and address on the first and last 
sheets of each script. Do not trust to the return envelope 
— it may become separated from the script. A short 
time ago, a play was accepted and immediately pro- 
duced by one of the big companies. The writer had 
neglected to send either name or address, consequently 
he did not hear from the producer. However, soon 
after the play was released to the theatres, the author 
saw it and wrote in indignantly to the producer prac- 
tically accusing him of stealing the play. This time, 
he did not forget to send his name and address, so the 
company was able to explain the dilemma and send the 
writer a check. 

It is not necessary to write a letter when sending a 
script to a producer. Your object is self-evident and, 
if you do not forget to affix your name and address, 
you will hear from the company within a couple of 
weeks. But you need not worry if that space of time 
is exceeded ; you must make up your mind to be patient, 
for those scenario editors are very busy men and they 
make their decisions as promptly as is compatible with 
deliberate judgment. 

26 



PRICES PAID FOR SCENARIOS 

It is usual to leave the price of a script to the judg- 
ment of the editor, but if you have any definite idea of 
what you want for your play, mark the price on the 
first page. But I advise you not to make it exhorbitant. 
There is a mistaken idea abroad that enormous prices 
are paid for scenarios. It is as well to eradicate that 
idea at once and save yourself future disappointment. 
Prices range from five dollars to one hundred dollars, 
according to originality and value to the purchasing 
company. The average price is twenty dollars. But any 
company is only too glad to pay fifty dollars for a 
good plot that is worked out with original situations. 
Such a scenario, they say, is a rare find. A writer who 
gets as much as one hundred dollars is either a writer 
of note or one who submits a wonderfully brilliant piece 
of work. 

So, don't listen to the wild tales of fortunes to be 
made, but buckle down with the sane idea that there 
is a big market for good photoplays and that for a 
writer who has the ability and observes the suggestions 
laid down in this book and works honestly, there is a 
nice little revenue to be counted on. 



MY OFFER OF FREE CRITICISM 

Many readers of this book would doubtless feel more 
confidence if they could receive competent criticism on 
their first work. For those, I give below the synopsis 
of a photoplay produced by the Reliance Company. 
Through the courtesy of Mr. George W. Terwilliger, 
the scenario editor, I was accorded the authority to use 
this photoplay with the object of offering you free 
criticism of your scenario to be made from the 
synopsis. 

Carefully read, mark, learn, and digest the rules and 
suggestions of the foregoing chapters ; then write a 
scenario from the synopsis of "Kaintuck." 

27 



Mail your scenario to me with ten cents in stamps, 
to cover postage, and I will give you a free and full 
criticism of your work and mail you a copy of the 
original scenario from the master hand of Mr. Hal Reid, 
so that you may compare your work with that of an 
expert. 

Of course, you understand that this is merely prac- 
tice and that your scenario written from the Reliance 
Company's play is not available for the market. 



KAINTUCK 

Synopsis 

Kaintuck, a stalwart young mountaineer of Ken- 
tucky, loves a mountain girl, Sue. She returns his 
love. One day, as Kaintuck is walking with Sue and 
her sister, Dora, they discover an artist painting in the 
woods. The artist asks Sue to pose for him, thus 
arousing the jealousy of Kaintuck. The artist after- 
wards adds fuel to that jealousy by going to board at 
the log cabin where Sue and Dora live with their 
mother. The artist is also under the suspicion of three 
moonshiners who are running an illicit still in the vicin- 
ity. They think him a revenue spy and await their 
chance to do away with him. Kaintuck advises him: 
"Stranger, I reckon you had better go back to where 
you came from." Sue and Dora meet Kaintuck with the 
artist and Sue demands to know what is the matter. 
When the artist explains that he is being driven from 
the mountains, she is very angry. She scolds Kaintuck 
and he leaves them. The artist accompanies the girls, 
and his attentions to Dora show a budding love for 
her. 

Kaintuck's jealousy is augmented by seeing Sue in 
the artist's arms. The artist is merely explaining a 
pose, but it almost costs him his life; for Kaintuck 
levels his rifle and only his love for Sue conquers 
his hatred and stays his hand. He goes away, but 

28 



returns later to the cabin and accuses Sue of loving 
the artist. They quarrel. After he has gone, Dora 
and the artist emerge from the cabin. The latter asks 
Dora to be his wife and she consents. Soon after, the 
artist, in strolling about, runs across the whiskey still. 
Thinking it picturesque, he begins to sketch it. The 
moonshiners watch him, then take him prisoner and 
march him off to be shot in a secluded spot. They tie 
him to a tree and are about to fire, when Sue and Dora 
rush up. Sue begs for his life, but the moonshiners 
thrust her aside. Kaintuck crawls out from the under- 
brush and, pointing a revolver at the men, orders 
"Hands up!" They obey. Sue cuts the ropes bind- 
ing the artist and he, in turn, relieves the moonshiners 
of thier firearms. Kaintuck drives the men before him. 
One turns and attacks him, but Kaintuck picks him up 
and throws him from him. Sue wishes to thank Kain- 
tuck but he rudely ignores her and goes off. Later, 
meeting Sue and her mother outside their cabin, he 
announces: "I'm goin' away and leave him fer you." 
As he turns, the artist appears with Dora. He meets 
Kaintuck's anger by explaining his intentions in re- 
gard to Dora. Sue then approaches Kaintuck and 
scolds him for his foolishness. Seeing his mistake, he 
raises her in his arms and kisses her fondly. 

This synopsis, as you see, is not in accordance with 
the rule for 200 to 250 words. But this is a different 
matter from a synopsis accompanying a scenario ; I 
had to give you the story to work on. 

Read it over until you have the plot and the scenes 
well fixed in your mind; then write it in scenario form. 

If you send it to me, I shall criticize it in the way 
that I shall deem most helpful to you. 



29 



iUH 10 1912 



1ST OF PRODUCING COMPANIES 

American Film Co., Bank Floor, Ashland Block, 
Chicago, 111. 
Western plays. Plots with background of typical 
industries and enterprises, such as fruit raising and 
drying, irrigation project, etc. 

Biograph Co., 11 East 14th St., New York, N. Y. 
Plays that accentuate the contrast between the rich 
and the poor. Clean and clever comedies are in strong 
demand. 

Champion Film Co., 145 West 45th Street, New York, 
N. Y. 
Plays of everyday life. Comedies. 

Edison Company, Decatur Avenue and Oliver Place, 
Bronx, New York. 
Plays of all types. Strong dramas, good comedies, 
plays pointing morals or with educational tendencies. 

Essanay Co., Argyle Street, Chicago, 111. 
Short and clever comedies. 

Eclair Film Co., Fort Lee, New Jersey. 
Gripping dramas and short comedies. 

Independent Moving Picture Co., "Imp.," 102 West 
101st Street, New York, N. Y. 

Strong and emotional dramas. Short and clever 
comedies. This company demands the unusual and 
pays well if suited. 

Kalem Co., 235 West 23rd Street, New York, N. Y. 
Great latitude in subjects. Good, light dramas of 
everyday life. Comedies, Western plays not dealing 
with cowboys or Indians. Open-air background pre- 
ferred for Western plays. Must be typewritten. 

Lubin Co., Indiana Avenue, Philadelphia, Pa. 

Light comedies and polite dramas ; society, home, and 1 
business life. 

G. Melies, Santa Paula, California. 
Plays of modern Western life. 

Majestic Motion Picture Co., 145 West 45th Stm 
New York, N. Y. 



reet, 



Light love stories and comedies. 

Nestor Film Co., Hollywood, California. 
Plays of everyday life and Western plays. 

New York Motion Picture Co., 251 West 19th Street, 
New York, N. Y. 
Sensational Western plots, including cowboys, In- 
dians, and military. Big two-reel subjects. 

Pathe Freres, 41 West 25th Street, New York, N. Y. 
General types of plays. Tragic plots will receive 
the consideration of this company. Comedies are in 
great demand. 

Powers Motion Picture Co., 511 West 42nd Street, 
New York, N. Y. 
Good original plays of any subject. Short comedies 
and child pictures. 

Reliance Company, 540 West 21st Street, New York-— 
City. 
Strong dramatic plots. Something "different." 

Rex Motion Picture Company, 573 Eleventh Avenue, 
New York City, N. Y. 
Short comedies and dramas. No Western plats. 

Selig Polyscope Co. 

Stirring dramas. Historical plots or historical inci- 
dents introduced into plays. Full reel comedies are 
also wanted. 

Solax Company, Congress Avenue, Flushing, Long 
Island, N. Y. 
Strong dramas and melodramas. Comedies. 

Vitagraph Company. 

Does not discriminate as to nature of plays. Any- 

I thing good and interesting is available — Western, 
historical, biographical and dramatic plays, as well 
as comedies. 



31 



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